


Who's Loving You

by LikeYouAreInLove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Harry is also hopeless, Harry is hot and Louis is flustered, Jade has no time for costumes, Liam is perfect (according to Zayn), Louis is hopeless, M/M, Niall is chill, Perrie is a female Zayn, Zayn is lame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeYouAreInLove/pseuds/LikeYouAreInLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘help me he’s in a /lavender sweater/ like wtf he’s so cute but he’s still hot af???? and I think I need CPR because he just, like, smiled wtf’</p><p>Almost immediately after the text goes through, Harry’s digging into his pocket, pulling out a phone that is already lit with an awaiting text. Louis panics – looking at his phone, he actually checks the number he sent it to and…shit. He goofed up.</p><p>He goofed up.</p><p>So he does what any respecting young man would do when Harry looks around the room with a puzzled expression – he dives behind the couch and hopes to God that Harry did not see that.</p><p>Or</p><p>Louis is an idiot and needs to learn to check the contact before sending messages that will, more than likely, get him punched in the throat or publicly humiliated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Loving You

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay, i just had a lot of feelings about Zayn being a huge geek on his birthday with all those great edits of him as superheroes, my sons being in love and that bloody lavender jumper. Also by Harry wearing all black bc he is fine af when he does. This is mostly unedited because I suck so I'm sorry for any errors! Enjoy xx
> 
> P.s. Title is from, funnily enough, Who's Loving You but the Little Mix cover whoops.

Louis does not want to be at school but more than that, he doesn’t want to be sporting the Luigi hat Zayn insisted he wear as his costume. It is, unfortunately, free dress day and Louis used to love it but years of watching his sisters grow up, years of his sisters ‘maturing’ and their clothes getting measurably more revealing, has worn him down. It’s probably not something that should affect him but he’s practically their dad and he’s supposed to feel some sort of way about them growing up, right?

 

He actually pouts when he spots Lottie ahead of him in a pair of short-shorts and a tight top, cat ears perched on her head because she’s gotten into Ariana Grande a lot recently. Fizz, at least, wore leggings under her skirt. Louis is not saying they should be saints, it would be way too hypocritical, but he doesn’t really want these boys eyeing them off either. He knows how teenage boys are.

 

Let’s just say he ended up with a very sore nipple this morning when he said Lottie should wear a turtleneck before promptly throwing it at her. Her pinching skills have increased dramatically, apparently, because Louis is sure he's bruised. Rubbing at his aching spot through his shirt, Louis pulls open his locker and frowns at his books until Zayn shuts the door right back in his face.

 

“Where’s your fake moustache, douchebag?” Zayn has gone all out, decked in full attire and fake facial hair – Louis would feel lame in comparison, with his green sweatshirt and skinny jeans, if this whole idea wasn’t lame to begin with.

 

“Good morning to you too, Zayn.” Louis answers dryly, tugging his locker open again, pulling out his books out and glaring some more. Just because Zayn is one of those costume nuts who had insisted that everyone go along with him, doesn’t mean Louis has to be conform. It’s not part of the best friend code and he's above peer pressure and all that.

 

Hands pinch his arse, sending him jumping, a very manly yelp leaving his mouth. Obviously no other kind of yelp has ever passed his lips. Not ever. Spinning around, Louis gets another tweak to his already sore nipple and slaps the hands away, giving Perrie the stink eye.

 

She just grins and straightens her ridiculously puffy skirt. She, much like Zayn, has gone way too accurate with her costume – she’s even copied Princess Peach’s hair somehow. Louis is only satisfied when Jade sidles up next, wearing an orange slip dress with an iron-on daisy placed slightly off centre.

 

The crown in her fist looks to be just as last minute, “Oh, good, my partner is just as lame as me.” Jade says happily, slapping a high five with Louis while Zayn and Perrie grumble to each other about buying new, better friends. Louis smiles sweetly back.

 

“You’re ruining our group theme and I don’t appreciate it.” Perrie tells them, face blank before she spots someone over Louis’s shoulder and throws her hands in the air. Niall is wearing a puffy blue vest over a tan singlet and a white cap with red dots drawn on in Sharpie. It’s somehow terrible but altogether wonderful at the same time.

 

“Lads. Ladettes.” He greets, clapping Louis on the back, “You look lame, it’s not bloody Halloween.” He says to Zayn and Perrie, earning an earful about ‘artistic integrity’ or what-the-fuck-ever.

 

(“If you’re going to be in a costume, make it look good or don’t do it!”

“You’re way too invested, mate.”)

 

Zayn only calms down when Liam meets them in the first lesson in a yellow and green baseball tee and turtle shell backpack. His costume is just as shitty as the others but Zayn fawns over his boyfriend like he’s Koopa reincarnate; the best outfit of them all.

 

To the next of them, Perrie is chastising Jade about the quality of her costume, lovingly so, and Jade is rolling her eyes so fondly Louis is mildly disgusted. Niall stares at them, face scrunched up, before turning to Louis and saying, “They’re actually starry eyed. I can see stars.”

 

Louis snorts, nodding his head but whatever he was going to say dies in his throat when Harry fucking Styles walks into the room, head thrown back in a laugh at whatever Leigh is saying, looking ridiculously handsome in a black button down and black skinny jeans and black suede boots and god, why does he look so long and lean in that?

 

Fuck that quiff as well, Louis thinks.

 

He doesn’t have much time to stare, Harry dropping his head with a grin and looking around the room, so he turns to Niall frantically, hoping to look deep in conversation but Niall is just staring back at him evenly when he says, “Great. You too. It’s a fucking epidemic.”

 

Louis needs new friends.

 

~*~

 

“You’re coming to the party tonight right, Lou?” Liam asks at lunch, arm thrown around Zayn’s shoulders and holding a banana in the other hand. Louis is only human, so if he stares a bit when Liam takes a bite, then the kick in the shins from Zayn is punishment enough.

 

Louis just grunts in response to the question, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Liam raises an eyebrow, “Harry will be there.” It’s no longer a question, it’s too the point and blunt as a sledgehammer to the chest. Louis glares back, “Okay, let me rephrase that – you’re coming to the party tonight, Lou.”

 

Louis had no hope of not going, anyway.

 

So he slumps further down in his seat, avoids staring at Harry’s table and mutters, “God, Li, no need to get so dominant.” He points his fork at the man and groans at Zayn’s smirk, the wag of his eyebrows, and Liam’s red face, thinking that he really does need new friends. 

 

~*~

 

So that’s how he ends up at the party, thrown by Nick, wearing yet another group costume. This time, they went as characters from Sonic the Hedgehog. Louis is sensing a pattern of game-themed costumes, what with time before being ‘Donkey Kong’.

 

Zayn – dressed head to toe in black expect for the white and red Converse on his feet – is Shadow, of course. Niall is Tails, Liam is Sonic himself. Jade and Perrie are Amy and Cream respectively, Perrie actually dying her hair pink that afternoon, and Louis is Knuckles.

 

He’d been attacked with red hair dye while they waited for Perrie’s hair to develop and didn’t know if he regretted it yet. If he did, he could always blame Jade. Raking colour through his hair so quickly he couldn’t stop her if he tried, Louis had to admit that Jade had damn quick fingers.

 

He pointedly ignored the way Perrie giggled when he said as much because, honestly, is he surrounded by rabbits who hump all the time?

 

He’s lost most of his group along the way, Niall – his second in command and loyal groupie – had even disappeared just moments before and Louis does what any other moping teen does, he shoves his way past couples making out on the couch and grabs a seat.

 

He’s only had two beers, barely even a buzz going, but he feels light headed when he sees Harry in the corner of the room, telling a story with flailing hands, and holding an entire group captive with nothing but slow syllables and a happy smile. Most of them look a bit star-stuck – Louis can relate.

 

When Louis takes note of the soft purple of his jumper, how huge it is even on him, he almost has a heart attack because it’s just so damn endearing and his legs look so damn long in those jeans and Louis really does hate that damn quiff. Except he kind of loves it. Then again, he also wants to ruin it by running his hands through it and pulling it and god. He's a rabbit as well. Or maybe he's just a normal teenager; he's not sure what the difference is yet.

 

He needs to text one of his friends to come help a brother out. So he taps on his phone, finds Jade’s number and writes:

 

‘help me he’s in a /lavender sweater/ like wtf he’s so cute but he’s still hot af???? I think I need CPR because he just, like, smiled wtf’

 

Almost immediately after the text goes through, Harry’s digging into his pocket, pulling out a phone that is already lit with an awaiting text. Louis panics and looking at his phone, he actually checks the number he sent it to and…shit. He goofed up.

 

He goofed up.

 

So he does what any respecting young man would do when Harry looks around the room with a puzzled expression – he dives behind the couch and hopes to God that Harry did not see that.

 

It’s shot to hell when Harry’s head pokes around the corner a second later, nibbling his lip and furrowing his brow. It’s a tight squeeze behind the couch, just the slightest of gaps on either side of his body and the wall, so he couldn’t turn away if he tried. That might also be due to Harry’s stupidly green eyes and how the sparkle in the flashing lights. Fuck Liam for putting Harry's number in his phone.

 

“Er, can I talk to yo-” Harry starts, kneeling by the couch and pulling on his bottom lip with his forefinger and thumb. Louis really does needs CPR because his chest is getting tight. Louis is going to have a fucking stroke, actually.

 

“I can explain! Um…give me a second…uh, okay, I’m very drunk.” Louis blurts out earnestly, hands and knees’ starting to ache where he’s kneeling and praying that Harry doesn’t notice the way-too-sober-for-that-shit-excuse vibe Louis is giving off.

 

“You’re sober.”

 

Shit.

 

“I’m high.”

 

“You’re sober.”

 

Double shit.

 

“My finger slipped.” Louis says weakly, clenching and unclenching his fingers against the wooden floor, scrunching his face up and looking anywhere but at Harry.

 

“It’s a twenty-nine word sentence; fingers don’t slip for that long.” Louis ignores the thrill he gets from knowing that Harry’s counted the words because who even does that? God.

 

“I’m drunk?” He tries again, shoulders pushing up around his ears as he winces.

 

“You’re sober.”

 

“…high?”

 

“Louis.” Harry says it exasperatedly, but Louis is too busy freezing because he should not like the way his name sounds rolling off of Harry’s tongue, should not picture him moaning it and he should not think it sounds like a moan now. His hormones need to bloody check themselves, thank you.

 

“Harold.” Louis says back evenly, or as evenly as he can with his long time crush’s face barely ten centimetres away. So not evenly at all really.

 

It’s not like he hadn’t any chance not falling for Harry – it’s Harry – but he certainly wasn’t expecting to fall quite this hard, not for quite this long. He’d been close to Harry all through primary but when they’d returned for high school, it was different. They just…stopped talking.

 

Louis had been a bit in love with the dude since he was eight so…bit of a kick in the balls but he’d dealt. Well, he certainly didn’t deal well when Harry returned one semester having grown a solid six inches and filled out his new long frame.

 

Don’t even get Louis started on those damn headscarves or the tight jeans or the wonderful, wonderful way he smiled and laughed and talked. Everything Harry did was wonderful to Louis, even down to the way he tripped over his long legs.

 

“Can we talk? Somewhere private?” Harry asks, voice as quiet as it can be in a room with pumping music and loud chatter. Louis nods glumly, holding out his hand to be helped up and pulling it free as soon as he can.

 

Harry already knows Louis is hopeless for him, he doesn’t need more reminding. And Louis already knows this will be a breakup talk without the consideration of a relationship first. Stupid, stupid alphabet for putting ‘j’ and ‘h’ so close together. Louis wishes he knew someone whose name began with an ‘i’ so there was some kind of buffer.

 

Then again, he wouldn’t have an excuse if that were the case.

 

As soon as the bedroom door closes behind them, the music dulled considerably, Louis is blurting out, “Fuck the alphabet, it’s stupid.” He’s immediately overcome with the urge to punch himself in the face, “I mean, um, you shouldn’t read texts that aren’t meant for you.”

 

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up from their bemused position, “You sent it to me!” He says, tone incredulous and Louis winces. God, he’s such a knob.

 

“Yes, but clearly it wasn’t intended for you. It was for Jade. Whose name is the one after yours in my contacts. My finger, like, actually did slip, really. So. Yeah.” Louis isn’t totally sure why he’s speaking with such clipped sentences, why his hands are swinging around so much, but Harry’s lips are scrunching to the side like he’s trying to contain laughter so he’ll probably start crying soon.

 

Forget any coherent words leaving his mouth when that happens.

 

Louis crosses his arms and glares at the ground; trust him to send a text proclaiming his love – sort of – and get laughed at in return. Louis knows he’s got a good kick – if Harry does actually laugh Louis’ll just boot him in the nads and run.

 

For a fleeting moment, Louis actually worries about hurting Harry’s dick and how that might damage his chances of seeing it in the future before he remembers that Harry is probably going to crush his heart so the least he can have is a sore penis.

 

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

 

And, like, what?

 

“What.” Louis says, sharp, one quick syllable that is entirely unbelieving. Harry just smiles and, Christ, it’s so soft and…fond. Louis’s arms drop to his sides, eyebrows possibly disappearing in his hairline as Harry takes a step backwards to press his upper back against the door, tucking his hands into his pockets.

 

With a huge smile, Harry says smugly, “I said you’re really cute…like, when you’re all flustered and blushing and stuff.”

 

Louis can’t help the ‘I don’t blush’ that falls from his mouth but it makes Harry’s grin spread lopsidedly, so he isn’t too embarrassed. He is, however, a huge liar because his cheeks feel hot and he just knows that they probably are a vibrant red, “Yeah, well, who even wears lavender sweaters.”

 

He may be a bit off centre and defensive, even though there is nothing to defend against.

 

Harry looks down at his jumper, then back to Louis and shrugs, “Your text implies that you aren’t totally against it.” When Louis groans, he smirks, “And yes, I will be using it against you for a long time. So silly, not checking who you’re sending texts to.”

 

Louis blinks rapidly, face blank, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says simply, hoping that if he pretends to have no idea about the text, it will go away. God, he’s making a fool of himself.

 

Harry rolls his eyes with a laugh, “Yeah, you do.”

 

Louis sighs, “Yeah, I do.” With a huff, he continues, “Look, can we pretend it didn’t happen? Like, I’m already pretty embarrassed and I’m not really in the mood for the ‘talk’ so if you’d let me go downstairs and drink enough to forget about tonight, that’d be great-”

 

“I had the biggest crush on you in primary school, did you know that? Since grade one. I was so stoked when we became friends; I was super convinced we were going to get together, like, right away even though we were, like, seven.” Harry interrupts, grinning bashfully and having the decency to flush.

 

Louis’s mouth drops open, “Really? Because, um, same. Since I was eight. though, so you're the lame one now.”

 

Harry’s grin spreads only to drop, “Then we just kind of…stopped talking? And you got in close with Zayn while I got closer with Nick then I just had no idea how to talk to you anymore. Like, you started football and drama club and got super popular-”

 

“You were popular too!”

 

“- and I felt stupid every time I tried to come up with a way to talk to you. So I just…I don’t know, admired from a distance. Apparently I wasn’t the only one.” Harry continues, raising an eyebrow as his smile turns coy.

 

Louis’s stomach drops in the best way, gulping loudly, “No, apparently not. But, like, same. I was too intimidated by you. You’re ridiculously attractive, you know.” Louis blurts out, shaking his head at himself for being so open.

 

Harry laughs, loud and bright, “So I’ve heard.” He teases, pulling his phone out of his pocket and waggling his eyebrows like a giant dork. God, like he used to. He was just as ridiculous in primary school.

 

It calms Louis enough, that simple reminder, for him to not go bright red, for him to close the distance and push his lips up onto Harry’s, standing on his tiptoes to try to close the distance. Harry still has to drop his head for the kiss to have any proper pressure, his arms circling around Louis’s waist and pulling him right in. The height difference does lots of things to Louis, things that put thoughts in his head that he shouldn't have for such a sweet, innocent kiss.

 

Louis steps up onto Harry’s feet, gripping Harry’s biceps to steady himself, stifling a groan when he feels the muscles bunch and shift. So much for innocent. Harry’s lips work against his swiftly, smoothly, probably much too easy for what is actually a first kiss. There isn’t any awkward teeth clinking, no off-center pecks or bumping noses.

 

Louis would be convinced that it wasn’t their first kiss if he wasn’t positive that he would remember something like that happening. And this burns in the way that every first kiss does – new and special and all together wonderful.

 

When the need to breathe becomes too great, sadly after the first swipe of Harry’s tongue, Louis pulls away, panting and looks up to gauge Harry’s reaction. He was definitely kissing back but it’d be a tad humiliating if he didn’t feel how Louis did, didn’t get that…spark.

 

The flush high on his cheeks and the slow spread of his smile makes Louis laugh breathlessly, relaxing into Harry and burrowing his face into the curve of Harry’s neck, “Sorry, should’ve asked first.” He mutters, but even as he says the words, he can’t keep the stupid smile off his face.

 

Harry scoffs softly, smoothing a hand down Louis’s side, “Like I would’ve said no.”

 

~*~

 

“Goddamn it, Louis!”

 

It’s the final party of high school, having graduated just that afternoon, six months after he and Harry got together, and Louis’s only just walked into Nick’s house and Zayn is already shouting at him, “Oh my god, what?” He asks exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air.

 

“What the hell kind of Link costume is that?” Zayn demands, hands on his hips and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re literally just wearing what you wore when you were Luigi!”

 

Louis huffs, “No, these are different jeans and this is a sweater when, clearly, I was in a t-shirt last time.” He says, all bitchy, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. It doesn’t stay on there long, however, because Harry appears out of nowhere and kisses the pout right from his lips, leaving him grinning and swooning like a cartoon character.

 

“Go away, Harry, this is a serious conversati – what the fuck.” Zayn deadpans, looking to Harry’s Kirby jumper, “You’re supposed to be Kirby, not have him splattered on your front. Dear lord, you two are as hopeless as each other. I can’t believe I have to put up with this in Uni as well. I can't believe Li and I are sharing a flat with you two.”

 

Harry looks offended, mouth open and eyebrows pulled together in defiance, “Excuse me, Zayn, but it is a pleasure to witness costumes as fine as these!” He cries, poking his own chest, then Louis’s.

 

“Yeah!” Louis chimes in unnecessarily, rubbing to spot Harry’s monster finger jabbed, “And that bloody hurt.” He mutters, jutting his bottom lip out at Harry, if only for him to kiss it away again.

 

“Sorry, babe, got too into it.” He laughs, smothering Louis’s face with pecks, arms tight around his smaller boyfriend’s waist. Louis chuckles, pushing him away and trying to keep him close simultaneously. It’s very contradicting.

 

Zayn makes a gagging noise, but as soon as Liam appears out of nowhere and puts an arm around his shoulder, he's cooing just as disgustingly as Louis and Harry was, the hypocrite. Perrie and Jade aren’t far behind him, slotting into their group, dragging a very inebriated Niall along, “God, he’s little but he’s heavy.” Perrie whines.

 

Zayn takes one look at them and groans, “Perrie, you’ve let me down.”

 

And it’s true, Perrie – dressed in a short overalls and a soft purple jumper – has barely made an attempt at becoming Jigglypuff beyond twisting her faded pink hair into a curl at her forehead. Jade is even less impressive, the plaited bits of hair by her ears being the only hint at her being Zelda.

 

Louis high fives her. This is why she’s always his costume buddy.

 

Zayn has gotten way too into it again – his entire attire is exactly the same as early Fox McCloud. Liam had insisted on being Samus, not giving a damn that he is, surprisngly enough, the wrong gender to dress up as a female character because she’s ‘damn cool, Z, damn cool’.

 

Niall hasn’t attempted at all, he’s simply wearing a Pacman snapback and leaving it at that. At least it was the right character.

 

“Eh, you win some and lose some.” She says uncaringly, swinging her hips and mouthing along to the words, “I love Elastic Heart, oh my god, Shia is a babe!” She shouts, receiving some shouts of agreement from nearby and a glare from Zayn and Jade.

 

Zayn's melts away when Liam kisses his cheek and Jade is sated enough by the 'but you're my babe' that Perrie whispers not-so-subtly into her ear.

 

Louis’s attention is returned to Harry as his hands slide around Louis’s waist, his chest pressing in close to Louis’s back, swaying them to the beat, “I think you look great, fuck Zayn.” He whispers into Louis’s ear, lips brushing.

 

Louis grins, a shiver running down his spine in the best way, “Wouldn’t you get jealous?” He teases, leaning back into Harry’s embrace and smirking.

 

It takes Harry a few seconds to get it, blinking in confusion, before realisation dawns on his face and he’s growling playfully and biting down on Louis’s shoulder, “Oh, yeah, so jealous, babe.” He says sarcastically, “Please, like Fox could compete with Kirby.”

 

Louis hums in agreement, closing his eyes and moving with the boy behind him, placing his hands on Harry’s and entwining their fingers, "Like Zayn could compete with my Hazza." He says, feeling Harry grin and hold him that much tighter. It’s been mostly smooth sailing since they got together at that party, they’ve only had the one fight and it was quickly resolved.

 

Miscommunication was the cause and, really, wasn’t that always their problem?

 

“I love you.” Harry murmurs in his ear, pressing his forehead to the high point of Louis’s cheekbone and if Louis could melt, he would, like a damn popsicle. Harry has this habit of telling him those three words every single time they see each other, because he’s a sap and ‘what if you never saw me again, Lou, and my last words weren’t that I love you’ and Louis had been scared into encouraging it because Harry’s a paranoid jerk.

 

Hell, he does it as well, “I love you.” He replies, bringing a hand up to curl into Harry’s hair and smiling the dopey smile he hasn’t been able to wipe off his face for months. He’s far beyond content with where he is, where he’s going, and is happy to say that Harry will be with him every step of the day.

 

He briefly wonders what would have happened if he’d actually sent Jade the text, if he’d never goofed up, and dismissed the wave of anxiety that rushes through him at the thought. If there’s one thing he’s come to know about he and Harry, it’s that they would have always ended up together.

 

As Harry grumbles about Zayn and Liam inspecting each other’s’ tonsils with their tongues and how ‘ew Liam, you need to work on your technique, this isn’t a bloody porno’, he thinks he’s okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! Kudos and feedback is much appreciated xx


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